


The most precious treasures of the house of Finwë

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Jewellery, M/M, Naughty shenanigans in Valinor, oh these Noldor and their collective jewellery kink, princes behaving badly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fingon and Maedhros take a look at the palace's treasury, but get slightly distracted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The most precious treasures of the house of Finwë

“We shouldn’t be doing this” said Maitimo nervously, peering back over their shoulders into the corridor outside as Findekáno concentrated on the elaborate looking system, fumbling with the keys and cursing. “

“We are princes of the line of Finwë” said Findekáno. “We have a right to take a look at the treasury.”

“We had to steal the inner door keys from Haru’s desk drawer.”

“The guards on the outer gate didn’t stop us though” Findekáno pointed out. He dropped the keys in the dim light, scrabbling for them on the floor. “Curse it. Maitimo, hold that lampstone closer, would you?”

Maitimo obeyed, leaning down with a sigh. “Alright, just a quick look” he said, smiling despite himself. Fingon, with a shout of triumph, got the final lock open and stood up, taking Maitimo’s face in his hands for a swift teasing kiss before taking his hand and pulling him through the stout, heavy door. 

Maitimo held up his lampstone as they crossed the threshold, and they both gasped in wonder.

All around glittered gold and jewels, in great glass cases - works of art in themselves - reaching to the high vaulted ceiling high above. The jewellery and crafts were not the common stuff that the Noldor used for trade and barter but pieces that were exquisitely fine, the metalwork as delicate as feathers in places, gleaming in the pale light. Gems of every colour shone back at them with their own light. 

“Enough to impress even a son of Fëanáro?” asked Findekáno, turning to Maitimo with a slow smile.

“Some of this must be Atar’s work” said Maitimo, thinking aloud. In truth he recognised some pieces, but most were strange to him. He wondered how far underground they were; the ceiling disappeared into near-blackness high above. 

“Come on” said Fingon. “Let’s go and try some of it on!”

“What? No!”

“Oh, come on Maitimo. You think I went through all that effort with the keys just to look?”

“That was hardly  _any_  effort.”

Findekáno gave him a beseeching look, his eyes wide and blue in the lampstone light. 

Maitimo reflected on how little it took for Findekáno to persuade him to do anything, and how that might end badly one day. 

He gave a deep sigh. “Fine. But be careful when you - ” but he broke off as Findekáno dragged him by the hand to the nearest glass case. 

It was not locked. 

Findekáno took out an elaborate golden coronet, placing it on Maitimo’s head, stilling his protests with a finger laid against Maitimo’s lips. He stood back and looked at Maitimo appraisingly, then adjusted the coronet so it sat at a jaunty angle. He smiled appreciatively, then turned back to the case, taking out a set of surprisingly heavy gold and emerald bracelets and clasping them around Maitimo’s wrists. 

“Fin - ”

“Hush, you look beautiful and you know it.” He placed great jewel-studded collar around Maitimo’s throat, lifting his hair and finishing by running a finger down Maitimo’s chest to the collar of his tunic. Maitimo felt a frisson go through him, and he could imagine Findekáno’s self-satisfied smile, though his back was turned. 

He grinned. “Fine.” He caught Findekáno around the waist. “But you need to wear your share of gold too.”

Findekáno gave him a wide-eyed look that looked far too innocent, Maitimo thought. He played with the end of a braid of his heavy dark hair nonchalantly. “I’m already wearing gold.”

“Not nearly enough.” Maitimo put down the lampstone, taking the coronet from his own head and placing it on Findekáno’s.

“You would see me crowned, would you,  _Nelyafinwë_?”

“I would, my beautiful one. And that’s only the beginning.”

He took out a great net of chains and jewels meant to cover the shoulders and upper arms, clasping at the collar, and held it up to Findekáno’s chest, regarding it critically. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure about that” said Findekáno, his eyes sparkling. “It’s not meant to be worn with clothes underneath…”

In any other set of circumstances, Maitimo reflected later, he probably would have hesitated for longer. “Well” he said, “things can be done about that, you know.”

Findekáno was already unbuttoning his tunic, even as the words left Maitimo’s mouth.

The gold against his golden-brown skin, Maitimo thought, suited Findekáno perfectly. “You were made to wear gold” he said quietly, dropping his voice to a low caressing purr, slipping his hand around the back of Findekáno’s neck, beneath his hair. “But no treasure is precious enough to match you.”

After a long moment Findekáno drew back and smiled coyly, from beneath his lashes. “Oh no, what happened to Maitimo ‘we’re-not-supposed-to-be-here-we’ll-get-in-trouble’ Nelyafinwë?”

Maitimo shook his head, drawing back with a smile. He stood up primly. “You’re right. Of course. I was quite forgetting my - ”

“Oh stop it and come here” growled Findekáno, pulling him into a heated kiss. 

Maitimo felt himself melt into Findekáno’s arms, tasting his bold and demanding mouth, feeling that profusion of black hair chased with gold tickling his face and neck. 

“What I’m wondering” said Findekáno, between kisses, “is why we’re still wearing clothes at all. I think we would both be better off wearing nothing but precious jewels, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Findekáno laughed delightedly, lifting the thick fall of Maitimo’s hair - making carefully sure it didn’t catch in any of the many jewels he wore - and quickly and carefully helped him out of his clothes, Maitimo’s own fingers scrabbling at the laces of Findekáno’s breeches. 

After a moment he caught himself, glancing back hastily to the door. “Relax, Maitimo” soothed Findekáno, murmuring into the hollow of his throat, “no one ever comes down here. No one but…” he bit a little at the skin, drawing a little whimper from Maitimo’s mouth “…us.” He pushed his cousin gently against the side of the glass case, and though Maitimo felt perhaps he should resist, he had never wanted to shirk responsibility more desperately. 

Findekáno paused, his eyes lighting on a set of rings from the cupboard. “Wait” he said, taking them out. There were twenty-one of them, Maitimo counted quickly. “You must wear these.”

Twenty of them, he found, were the perfect size for his fingers and toes, but the last one was slightly larger. Findekáno held it between his fingers, the smirk curling over his full lips and the prospect of what that ring was for so enticing that Maitimo’s mouth dropped open just a little, his breath coming in a short, sharp burst even as he felt himself grow even harder than he already was. 

Findekáno took him quickly in hand and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, very softly. “You know where this ring goes, don’t you Maitimo?”

Maitimo smiled. “I do. But I think I still need you to show me.”

Findekáno didn’t need any more persuasion to slip the ring over the tip of Maitimo’s cock, the metal already warming as it touched his skin. 

Responsibility, thought Maitimo dimly, would have to wait.

——-

They were just stepping out into the corridor, Maitimo smoothing out the rumples in his tunic as Findekáno knelt down to lock the door, when there came a voice behind them.

“Ah! There the two of you are.”

Maitimo started like a frightened rabbit as Findekáno straightened up, tugging ineffectually at his hopelessly crumpled collar.

“Grandfather Finwë!”

“We were just… um…”

Finwë laughed. “Now there’s no need to act like criminals, you two. Little Atarinkë came to tell me you’d disappeared, the two of you, and I noticed the keys were gone, and I thought I might find a connection between the two mysteries. It appears I was right.”

Maitimo felt Findekáno sag with relief against him. “Um. Yes. Sorry, I admit, we broke into the treasury. It was very bad of us. Won’t happen again.”

“We only wanted a look.”

“And quite understandable. But boys” said Finwë, “there’s no need to steal the keys, you know that don’t you? You’re my grandsons; what’s in there belongs to the family.” He raised an eyebrow. “If you see anything in there that catches your fancy, you can take it to wear, if you promise to take good care of the family treasures.”

Maitimo felt himself turning red, but Findekáno seemed unperturbed. “Actually” he piped up, “there was this particular ring that caught my eye in there… I did think it was rather fine…”

Maitimo felt himself choke a little, turning it hastily into a cough and wondering whether he would get the chance to subtly elbow Findekáno in the ribs.

“It’s yours then, Finno” said Finwë, chucking Findekáno affectionately under the chin. “Just treat it as you would any other precious treasure.”

“Oh yes” said Findekáno, with a sidelong look that was very glad their grandfather seemed - hopefully - to have missed, “you have my promise on that.”


End file.
